


The Ghost of You

by hauntedd



Category: Nashville (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedd/pseuds/hauntedd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two lost souls start to find their way back</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ghost of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fleurlb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurlb/gifts).



Scarlett haunted him for months afterward. From billboards in Tokyo to trade publications in London, it seemed the ghost of her lingered in the shadows reminding him that he’d had a role in the circumstances that followed. Rayna had argued like only a mother could about her age and innocence and inexperience and all the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. It was refreshing, in an industry with so much shit to see someone so untainted, so pure.

Maybe it was like Rayna hinted. He was Hades and she was Persephone and he couldn’t resist the temptation of stealing some of that lightness for himself. In his darker moments, when he was plied full of liquor and whatever the guys he was producing were taking, he thought she was supposed to have saved him. 

Neither comparison was fair. They were two broken people who’d started to knit themselves back together before his self-loathing quaked under the weight of Rayna’s preconceived notions. And here they both were, spiraling separately into their own private hells.

Liam looked out the window of his hotel room, the fulgent Tokyo lights stared back. Before Scarlett he’d loved the isolation of millions of lives lived in close proximity with minimal interaction. But now, Liam thought he’d rather find something more permanent and that it might be possible and mere fantasy.  


He exhaled and got himself a bottle of Asahi. Then he picked up a pen and started to _write_.

\------------------------------------------------

Scarlett wasn’t sure what Liam had meant when he told her to live the life she wanted. No one had ever asked her what she wanted out of life, so Scarlett hadn’t thought about it much. She knew that she needed to escape her mom and grow as a person. That was why she’d moved to Nashville in the first place, but even then she’d moved for Avery, not herself. 

It seemed every decision she’d made wasn’t her own. Sure, it was difficult with a mother like hers who guilted her into things that she hadn’t wanted in the first place, but Scarlett wasn’t the type of person to blame everyone else when the answer seemed pretty obvious when you thought about it.

Scarlett didn’t know what she wanted, or who she was when she wasn’t obliging someone else.

Liam had noticed. He’d stolen her diary and pulled out emotions so raw they left her gasping for air every time she gave them voice. There was a freedom in that, one she’d thought, he understood. Liam wore his hurts on his face, but used sarcasm to distract people from his pain, and maybe the two of them could have found a way to be happy.

But that was just stupid. He’d made that plain enough and while Scarlett wanted to think it was just his nature to leave before he was left, it didn’t matter in the end.

She needed to work on herself first.

\-----------------------------------------------------

One song turned into two and then before Liam knew it, a whole album had developed. He recorded it in Liverpool, with a bunch of guys he’d never worked with before. There was something to be said for starting a process from the bottom and building it up. Liam just hadn’t wanted to work with people who _knew_ him and all the baggage that entailed.

If he was going to do this, actually do it—no bullshit, the last thing he needed was his buddies wondering which of his one night stands served as the inspiration for his album. Liam barely handled knowing that all twelve tracks were about her, either directly or indirectly, so other people learning the truth would fuck up the whole thing.

So, instead, he surrounded himself with a bunch of old industry guys who wanted to come out of retirement and they work through the whole thing in a matter of weeks. They all think he’s the saddest sack of shit there is—Paul, his bassist, was the only one to say it to his fucking face, which he appreciated. Liam had always appreciated honesty, except when it mattered most.

When he’s finished mixing and is satisfied with the work that they’ve done, Liam gets them all together for some beer and a preview. 

“So, ya talk to her, lad?” Paul asked immediately after the last song finished. The rest of the guys are full on drunk, but Paul stared at him all night, barely drinking.

“Talk to who?” Liam hadn’t wanted to have this conversation, the one about his muse.

“Your girl, man.” Rich, his drummer slurred, and staggered toward them. “We all know the bloody thing’s about a girl. All the good ones are.”

“Hate to tell you guys—I made it all up.” Liam lied. He hated this, these men weren’t supposed to notice that every song was about a woman, about Scarlett. But if they had noticed—it was only a matter of time before everyone else did, too.

“Bollocks. We’re all old men, lad. We have all been there before.”

“Aye, she musta messed ya up real bad,” Rich observed. He kicked at Johnny, who was passed out on the couch across from him. “If this one wasn’t passed out, you could trade war stories and see who’s heart is in more pieces.”

“I—I think I messed her up worse.”

“A damaged set.” Paul smirked, taking his beer in his hand and drinking. “Cheers to that, then. All hope isn’t lost. Let’s hope you don’t make a mess of it.”

Liam raised his bottle at Paul’s words. “I can drink to that.”

\-----------------------------------------------------

She heard _Into Your Garden_ the first time on a flight back to Nashville. She’d been out in Los Angeles with Avery and Gunnar meeting with some guy from Rolling Stone for an interview on their new album and somehow her failed solo career came up. She’d answered the question with a little laugh and a comment about how she got better with a little help from her friends and they’d moved on from there. 

But afterward, when the four of them were talking off the record, Scarlett learns more about the past she’d thought she left behind. But there it was, staring her in the face, somewhere between the discussions about Avery and Juliet and their daughter, about Gunnar and his new appreciation for quiet time away from Nickelodeon. Liam McGuinnis hadn’t run off to one of his empty houses to do whatever it was men like him did when they weren’t breaking hearts of young girls who gave them too freely.  
Instead, Liam had recorded an album.

A rock album, one that seemed to be doing well, both on the independent radio stations and was getting mainstream play. It was surreal, really. And yet, Scarlett was curious—even though she was happy, truly happy, and in a band with her friends she needed to hear it. Liam, in his cold, brash way, had been part of her growth as a person so she hoped he’d found some peace too.

So she downloaded it. And now Scarlett _knew_ that despite all his efforts to push her away, Liam still had feelings for her; so many feelings that he’d written an entire album about her, in fact. She was flattered, she _was_ , but what struck her the most was that every song seemed to know a part of her better than she knew it herself.

The question was _what was she going to do about that?_

\-----------------------------------------------------

Liam heard his phone go off as he was packing his hotel room. He wanted to ignore it, but it was probably his manager telling him that he was late for some thing or another. He could barely keep any of this straight anymore.

When he’d written his album, he hadn’t expected much except some of the pain to leave him. Instead, he had somehow gotten famous and went from man behind the scenes to man in front of the screaming crowd, girls throwing themselves at him. He _hated_ it.

“Yeah?”

“Liam? Liam McGuinness? It’s uh—it’s Scarlett. Scarlett O’Connor,” the voice on the end of the phone stumbled. He hadn’t expected—what the hell. Maybe that old bastard Paul was right about something.

“Shit. Scarlett?”

“Yeah, it’s uh. It’s me.” Scarlett confirmed. She was still hesitant, but the Scarlett he’d known wasn’t the type to call him after he was a total asshole to her. Maybe they both had changed after all—she was with that band now, they were about to do something big, so she’d landed on her feet, at least. “I heard your album.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Liam apologized, bracing himself for her anger. He’d probably be pissed too if the roles were reversed and she was the one who dropped him cold only to write a whole album about how she was an idiot and he was too good for her.

Except, Scarlett wasn’t him, thankfully.

“I’m not. It was nice. Helpful. I got to understand what happened a bit better.”

“Helpful.”

“Yes. It was helpful. I don’t know why you don’t think you deserve happiness, Liam. But you do deserve it,” Scarlett explained.

Liam inhaled sharply. She was good at that—knocking the air out of his lungs and cutting to the core of his bullshit. He mulled it over for a few seconds and tried to think of something to say in response.

“Liam, you there?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m here,” Liam answered. Screw it, if he doesn’t ask now, he never will. “Hey, Scarlett. I’m actually heading to Nashville next week. Do you want to meet up? Maybe get some dinner and talk in uh person?”

“I think I might like that very much,” Scarlett answered and he exhaled. Despite everything, she was willing to listen, to maybe try this again or at least prevent it from ending on such bad terms. “I gotta go—my connecting flight’s about to take off. It was good to hear your voice.”

“Ok, yeah. Thanks for calling Scarlett. I uh—I missed you.”

“I know,” Scarlett teased; he could just imagine the corners of her mouth snaking upwards at her joke. “I missed you too. You better call me about that dinner.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Liam replied. “Have a safe flight and text me when you land, alright?”

“Okay.”

Liam hung up the phone and stared at it. He wasn’t sure what passed for a good meal after so much time away from Nashville, but he knew that whatever it was it’d be better than anything he’d had in a long time.


End file.
